Heroes

Part 2

Buffy's hotel room was the size of a walk in closet, and the bathroom had no curtains. This was okay, because the bathroom had no functioning light, either.

Well, the airline was paying for the room, not her. She'd slept worse places. She'd slept stranger places ...

A visceral memory of sleeping in a crypt, curled up against the cool chest of an undead hero, surfaced unwelcome in her memories. She swallowed hard. She wanted just one more chance to tell him that she loved him. He'd said, "No, you don't ..."

But she did. She loved him with all her heart. And she'd kill for one more chance to say so.

"Spike, if you can hear me," Buffy said with a heavy heart, "I do, you know."

Bah. She was talking to ghosts who probably weren't even listening. Spike had doubtless gone onto that happy and peaceful place she sometimes craved. He'd earned it -- he'd saved the world, after all. Heaven was certainly in his cards. She'd been pulled back from there, to a cold and hard and lonely world that needed her. She would not ask the same of Spike. She wanted him, but she did not need him ...

A tiny voice in her heart whispered, Yes you do.

She walked to the window of the hotel. It had a decent view of an enormous river, and across the river, Manhattan. She decided she would go exploring. She needed the distraction.

Maybe she'd find something to dust. She needed that, too. Did New York have vampires? She intended to find out. She grabbed the bag of texts and slung it over her shoulder; it was too valuable to leave behind and safer with her.

* * * * *

Some hours later, she'd found her way to Times Square. It was late, but there were still people out and about. If there were vampires here, they were behaving themselves. She wandered towards the Aerie Building without realizing what she was doing at first. It drew her like a beacon. Her curiosity was aroused -- Manhattan might have a vampire shortage, but it did have a resident species of what appeared to be a winged demon that had piqued her curiosity.

Still, duty called. When she passed a dark and forbidding alley, she automatically took it. She assumed her best "dumb blond" expression and nonchalantly strolled past dumpsters and closed doorways. Rats scuttled out of her way, and steam rose from a grate. It was quiet. Too quiet.

She wasn't the slightest bit surprised when a man stepped out in front of her from behind a head-height stack of abandoned pallets. She stopped, balanced on the balls of her feet, and felt her adrenalin start pumping. Vampire or human? she wondered. He wore a ski mask, which led her to believe he was probably human. Vampires weren't worried about being seen because they tended to eat any witnesses.

When he grabbed for her, she decided he was definitely human. He wasn't fast enough for a vampire. Disappointed, she seized his arm, flipped him over her shoulder, and sent him crashing into the side of a dumpster.

The man groaned, but didn't get up.

She walked over and nudged him with a toe. "That's all you have to offer? Because that was pathetic."

He flinched away from her, staggered to his feet, and shambled into a limping run. He fled, wordlessly, into the shadows.

"Darn it," Buffy said, "And I was just getting warmed up."

"Oh goody." A voice asked behind her, "I like my blood warm."

And that would be a vampire, she noted with happiness. She set the bag of books down beside the Dumpster and dropped into a fighting crouch. Actually it was vampires, plural -- three of them, all in game face.

"You know I'm a Slayer," Buffy said, conversationally.

"You'll be my third," the vampire grinned at her, baring fangs.

Buffy barely had time to register that this vampire was claiming to have killed Slayers before when he rushed her. And he was good. Faster than normal reflexes, incredible strength, and aw, yeah, he was definitely one of those vampires who were actually a challenge for her ... it was like fighting Spike, or Angelus ... he had strength to equal hers and the skills to put it to good use.

She kicked him in the jaw; he caught her by the ankle and flipped her into the wall hard enough to leave bruises. She bounced back to her feet, and they circled each other, looking for an opening. "Got a name?" Buffy asked. "I like to know the names of the vampires I dust."

Actually, she was trying to distract him. She didn't care if he had a name or not. But he answered, "Rufus. You're good, you've had training. The last two I drank, they were such babies."

He'd gotten a couple of the Potentials, it sounded like. Damnit. "Rufus. Sounds like a dog's name."

They engaged again. She had her wooden spike out, but he was too fast -- she tried to slam it home in what was left of his heart, but he ducked back. He grinned and said, "I'm looking forward to you, blondy. You've got spirit. You got a name too?"

He grabbed for her. She caught his wrist and flung him head over heels into the Dumpster, with considerably more force than she'd used on the mugger. He left a dent. She baited him, mostly because she was enjoying this. "C'mon, you can do better than that."

He stood up, not damaged much. Super strength, too. He was old, she thought, and having drunk the blood of a couple of Slayers hadn't hurt his skills any. With a snarl, he rushed her again. She was expecting a headlong tackle, but at the last instant, he shifted his weight and hit her feet first. She knocked a couple of trash cans flying when she struck them. Heart pumping now, she scrambled frantically to her feet. She'd lost her stake. This guy was good!

It was hard to tell in the dark, but she thought his host body was probably handsome, too. Tall, longish dark hair. He was fit and athletic by natural inclination, in the same way Spike was, only bigger -- that tall, rugged frame was giving him an advantage on top of his other advantages. It was time to put an end to this, she decided. She spotted her stake next to a garbage can, and snagged it up, and the can as well.

She hit him with a garbage can. He deflected it easily enough, but she ducked under his arms, and with a quick motion, tried to dust him. The stake went home, but as soon as it did, she knew it was off target -- she'd hit three inches to the right of his heart. A painful wound, but not the desired fatal one.

Damn.

He lunged forward grabbed her with a growl, and foul air wafted over her face. "Yuck! Blood breath!" She kneed him in the crotch -- a dirty move, but this had suddenly become a fight for her life. He doubled over, and she got him in the nose with her knee.

Something hit both of them with stunning force. No, someone! A third fighter had entered the fray. At first she thought it was one of Rufus' buddies, but she got a dark glimpse of a definitely-not-vampiric face and a flash of claws that laid the vampire's chest open to the bone. Demon!

The demon was dressed in heavy robes that smelled of pleasantly of laundry soap. Some insane part of her mind painted a picture of a demon patiently sitting in a laundromat while his robes did the loop-de-loop in a dryer. Ridiculous. She focused on the fight. The demon was trying to take out the vampire, ergo he was at least temporarily on her side.

Rufus, limping and bleeding and with her stake still in his chest, bolted. The demon started to give chase, then pulled up with a disgusted noise as it became obvious within a few strides that the vampire was much faster. The creature turned around and padded back to her. A gruff, whispery voice asked, "Are you injured?"

"Broke a nail or two," Buffy said, "But I could have handled him. Thanks for the assistance, though. Any idea where he's headed? That vampire needs to be removed from circulation."

She couldn't see the creatures' face now; he wore a hooded robe and his face was concealed in shadow. He'd flipped the hood up before turning back to face her. But she'd seen it during the fight. He was leonine, with fangs and a slight muzzle, and clawed hands. She'd never seen anything like him before, but he was evidently on the side of the light because he nodded slowly. "I did not wish to see that monster kill another girl. -- I have not seen you here before."

The creature edged into the shadows, as if he was afraid of the light. But he waited, albeit a bit tensely, for her response. She shrugged and explained, "Just passing through, I guess. Thought I'd do a bit of hunting. My name's Buffy."

She got the distinct impression he was sizing her up. That voice -- she decided it was a sexy voice -- said softly, "You hunt vampires."

"I'm a Slayer, yes."

"He kills Slayers." There was warning there.

She shrugged. "I've fought worse." My last boyfriend killed two Slayers.

The thought of Spike made her heart clench up into a painful lump. She swallowed hard, and chewed on a nail for a minute before asking again, "Any idea where I should start hunting to track that one down? He's a problem, and he's only going to be a bigger problem if I don't take him out for you."

A car turned down the alley, headlights lighting everything up. He turned in a swirl of cloaks and ducked into a narrow passage between two buildings. Then twisted back to face her, just briefly, and reflected light lit his feline features up. There was a bit of gray in his hair, and a few lines around his eyes. He was older than she'd assumed. "Try 'Nando's Deli for information."

"Thanks!" She said.

"Tell Mandy that Vincent sent you," he said, in that soft voice. His cloak swirled around his ankles as he walked away. Then he disappeared, ducking into a doorway.

She flattened herself against the wall as the car passed. A curious passenger stared out at her. She smiled at the woman; they passed so close that she could hear a discussion between the passenger and the driver through the open windows.

"Margot, I'm sure this is the shortcut!"

"Brendan, there might be monsters down here."

She almost laughed. After they had passed, she crossed the alley to the dumpster where she'd left the bag of texts ... and discovered to her cold horror that it was gone.

Aw, crap. That was not good. Not at all.

Rufus had two cohorts with him, she remembered, though they'd vanished during the fight. She'd assumed they were cowardly types and had fled when it became apparent she was a Slayer. Now she bet they'd grabbed the books too.

This was not a good thing at all.